Count Kamen
by Seph Lorraine
Summary: Count Kamen sleeps in a lordly toomb in a vault below his mansion, and wakes up at night to drink the blood of his prey. Then a young girl (disguised a boy) named Usagi comes to stay for a while.
1. Prologue :: It All Started With A Rice B...

- Author's Note - Ohayoo, minna-san! I come here today to place the blame of my appearance upon  
my muse, Miri, who has been on my case lately about 'rekindling old flames'. So I gave her the   
challenge of coming up with ideas for either a Card Captor Sakura fic, a Vampire Hunter D fic, a   
Tenchi Muyo fic, or a Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon fic. I believe we can all porperly assume how that  
challenge ended. :) Now, first, there is the matter of my schooling which has required me to read two   
books and write reports before August 9th. I am reading Dracula. So Miri took the idea to make the  
BSSM story "Kamen" (aka Dracula, Sailor Moon style). So gather 'round, boys and girls... This is   
going to get weird.  
  
- Key -  
  
"..." -dialogue  
  
'...' - thought  
  
*...* - emphasis  
  
(...) - quick explanations, drifting along with the story  
  
[#] - author's note  
  
* (5x's) - change of scenery  
  
// ... // - diary entries, letters, articles, etc.  
  
- Warnings - Big words. Slight Weiss Kreuz spoilers. All character couples will end up properly in   
respective time (aka Mamoru+Usagi, Andrew+Makoto, Chad+Rei, etc. // aka could someone please   
tell me what the Japanese version of "Chad"s name is. I hate the American names. Ick. If I'm not   
told she's going to end up a love crazy Mamoru-stalker. _ // aka this story is going downhill before   
it even begins), please worry a lot. Language. Comma splicing.  
  
- Disclaimer - Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon (including characters, anime, manga, ideas,   
merchandising, and the state of Georgia) is property of Naoko Takeuchi, and other big companies   
that want our money. Dracula (the book, characters, movie, merchandising, and all the firey realms   
of Hell) is property of Bram Stoker and whoever his publisher was. I doubt anyone will sue me over   
this, so I won't even tell you not to bother. I have £2.24 to my name, and that really already belongs to   
someone else. ;_;  
  
* * * * *  
  
Kamen * By Seph Lorraine  
  
Prologue: It All Started With A Rice Ball  
  
* * * * *  
  
It was times like these that Tsukino Usagi really praised God that her disguise pen (or the small   
object reigning as the equivalent thereof) could successfully disguise her as a man. She would   
need it for this mission (or so the bottle of Glenlivet 12 year French Oak whiskey told her last night).  
  
'Sugoi!' She thought, 'And Rei told me that you should never except gifts from talking black cats...'  
  
Usagi put on a straight face and looked into the mirror and spoke, "Hello, Mister Count-" Her large   
blue eyes blinked once and her jaw fell open. Her disguise pen had changed her voice, too. "Sugoi!"   
She cheered and began hopping wildly around the room, before stumbling over a foot stool and   
onto a table. She came face to face to a picture of Makoto and her engaged-to-be-married fiance,   
Andrew.  
  
Again she paused, examining Andrew, she stood and walked back to the mirror.   
  
Come to think of it, she and he shared an almost freakishly unrealistic resemblence. The short  
blond locks, cropped just above the eyes, with the intricate little flip at the top of the head. Sure,  
his eyes were a completely different colour, but who cares about that? Sure he was quite a large  
amount taller than her, and she had hardly ever seen him wear anything but an apron. But who  
cares about that, anyway? So there were some -slight- differences.  
  
"I look like Andrew!"  
  
She abruptly kept herself from drooling as she looked down at herself frowning. 'I have suddenly   
become the object of my secret affections... Oh this is -so- not cool!' Her frown deepened as she   
looked at her chest, then a bit further down to the gray dress pants (belonging to her brother) she   
wore. 'Oh Gods... I have really become a boy.'   
  
Shocked and horrified blue eyes looked into the mirror, as Usagi began to worriedly mutter to   
herself, "Oh my God. I'm a hottie. Whatever will I do?"  
  
And with that she finished her packing, gathered her brother's papers and excepted that she was   
going to have to act as a man for the next few weeks, until this particular deal was settled.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Usagi's brother (whom shall remain nameless because he's not that important anyway), had just   
recently suffered a fatal choke on a rice ball on the week before. The family had buried him and   
then held a small reception (we will not say "they threw a wild party" for respect to the dead)   
afterwards. It was the very night of the funeral and reception (wild party) that the telephone rang. Of   
course, the telephone rang alot, considering when you live in Tokyo it's hard not to know a lot of   
people, which really wasn't to unusual. It had been the call that had been unusual.  
  
Being the only person present who hadn't gone overboard on her drinking yet, it was Usagi who had  
answered the phone...  
  
"What do you want? Don't you know we're in the middle of a wild party-er-funeral reception here?"  
Sure she hadn't fallen down drunk yet, but that was only because she was clutching a table for   
support.  
  
"Sorry for interrupting, this is Shuuichi Takatori, I live just next door, and I was just wondering if you   
could please turn down the music. I am trying to tape the stats of an important mission to a secret   
group of assassins I own called Weiss, who secretly live under the disguise of florists in a flower   
shop called the Koneko, across town. It's hard for the camera to pick up my voice with all that loud   
racket." The voice responded.  
  
"Oh... Sure, sorry about that." She hung up.  
  
Then the phone rang again...  
  
"Who is it?"  
  
"I can still hear it! Turn the music down!"  
  
"You again?! Fine, I will! Stop calling!" She hung up, and staggered to the stereo across the room,   
turning down the volume of Kamui Gackt's screaming freakishly-female voice.  
  
Then the phone rang yet again...  
  
"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!?!?"  
  
There was a pause from the other side of the line, and then the sexiest male voice she had ever   
heard spoke from the receiver, "Please pardon me, if I have called you at a bad time?"  
  
She blinked, "Er... No, I guess it's fine. Everyone's already passed out by now, so the   
party-er-reception is pretty much over... Uhm, can I help you?"  
  
"I believe I may have the wrong number." He paused, "Is there a solicitor living here by the name of   
Usagi's Brother?"  
  
She blinked, "Well, yeah... He did live here--"  
  
"Good, then. Give him a message for me. Say: The residence that he spoke about to a Mr. Chiba, is   
expected to be paid off on full during his stay here at my house. We will be expecting him tomorrow   
evening arround midnight, and a room will be waiting for him to rest upon his arrival--"  
  
Sobering up, slightly as the voice spoke, she tried to inform the speaker of recent happenings to the  
solicitor involving a rice ball, just last week, "But, sir--"  
  
The voice paid no heed to her interruption, but just continued, "Then tell him, that if he plans on   
backing out of the deal, I will be suing him and his family for all they have for false advertisement,   
saying that they promised me service that I did not receive. Then precisely say: 'I will expect him here   
tomorrow, without delay. It's been a pleasure chatting with you. See you soon. xoxo -Kamen'."  
  
She blinked for a moment and tried again, "Er, but--"  
  
"Now, if you'll excuse me I have a hair appointment. Good night to you, ma'am." He hung up.  
  
Glancing at her watch she saw it was 0230 AM. 'A hair appointment? ...Weird people.' She shook her  
head and frowned. She couldn't risk her family loosing everything they owned. They still had to pay   
off her late brothers debts (he didn't have life insurance), and the morgage on the house. That was   
when the idea struck.  
  
Amidst a room of drunken, dozing, bodies, Usagi decided she would use the pen that that strange  
black cat had given her a few days after telling her something about 'a mission to save the planet' or   
whatever. So she ran upstairs to find her brother's files and began to pack her clothes. She would   
need to act as a man for this trip (she didn't know why, though, after all it was the 20th century [1],  
and women were allowed to be solicitors), maybe being a guy would be fun. Maybe that was the   
alcohal talking.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Usagi, finished gaping at her new body in the mirror, and picked up her bags to head outside and   
wait for her ride (she assumed she would get a ride since she didn't know where the hell this guy   
lived). It was the morning after the wild party, and the man on the phone hadn't specified what time   
he would be picking her up specifically, but she knew she was to arrive around midnight. Her   
hangover was semi-violent by now, and she popped a few pills before grabbing her cell phone and   
heading out the door to wait.  
  
Sitting on the front steps, she made a few calls to her friends and family, letting them know she   
would be away for a little while on some of her brother's unfinished business (even though she was  
only sixteen [2], but appearantly in Japan it's not odd for sixteen yearold girls to go out on the unfinished   
business of their dead-younger-solicitor brothers, so it was no big deal). She wished her best friend   
Rei goodbye and promised to call whenever possible, and by the time she was finished with all this,   
it was 11:30 PM.  
  
It was very dark outside, and Usagi began to worry that a ride wouldn't be coming for her (after all,   
she had been waiting on the front porch all day). She was about to pick up her bags and go in   
when suddenly a horse-drawn cart pulled up before the house. The driver, a local farmer walked up   
and picked up her bags, tossing them into the dingy little cart and blantly told her to "hop in".  
  
'And I'm off to meet this...' She opened one of her brother's files quickly for a name, 'Chiba Mamoru,  
also aristocratically known as... Count Kamen?'  
  
* * * * *   
  
To Be Continued...  
  
* * * * *  
  
Notes--  
  
[1] This takes place around the same time as the series, which was in the 20th centry.  
  
[2] Yes, she is rather young for the soliciting business, and I -am- aware that her brother is younger  
than her. It's just really not important, though. _;;  
  
[3] He was originally a 'garlic farmer' in particular, due to something I was watching on JSTV (Japanese   
Satellite TV) a week or so ago about all these garlic farmers in northern Japan, but then I remembered   
that the guy he works for is the Count... Damn vampyrism.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Next Chapter--   
  
Usagi meets the Count when she arrives at his mansion in the out skirts of Tokyo. Though, he isn't what   
she was expecting. While drooling over the handsome Count Kamen, Usagi suddenly wishes she hadn't   
decided to come as a boy. She also wonders why she didn't think to pack her brother's clothes, since she's   
being a boy.  
  
* * * * *  
  
[ Originally Drafted and Posted = 22 July 2002 ]  
  
[ Edited and Reposted = 5 April 2003 ] 


	2. Chapter 1 :: Creaky, Leaky, and Squeaky

- Author's Note - Miri and I must show sincere appreciation for the reviews this story has thus  
received. Thank you very much, and I hope, should you continue to read, you will enjoy the   
progression in the story. This chapter, we get our tale started as Usagi travels across town to  
meet the illustrious Count Kamen (aka Chiba Mamoru) in his great manor-estate.   
  
Thank you to Eternal SailorSaturn for so kindly contributing Andrew and Chad's Japanese   
names.  
  
- Key -  
  
"..." -dialogue  
  
'...' - thought  
  
*...* - emphasis  
  
(...) - quick explanations, drifting along with the story  
  
[#] - author's note  
  
* (5x's) - change of scenery  
  
// ... // - diary entries, letters, articles, etc.  
  
- Warnings - Mild language, dark (literally [no pun intended]), semi-adult themes, if you start  
to become confused at the way the diary entries are set up, please tell me. If you've read the  
book of Dracula, you know the entire book is written through letters and diaries and newspaper  
articles, so I must include some of that to be in this story. Spontaneous comma splicing and   
comma omission.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Kamen * By Seph Lorraine  
  
Chapter 1: Creaky, Leaky, and Squeaky  
  
* * * * *  
  
// May 2nd; 2:43 AM --- Tsukino Usagi's Diary //  
  
The ride across town into the eastern outskirts of Tokyo was less than pleasant. Riding on the  
back of that cart was an experience I should hope to never experience again. My butt is really  
sore from sitting on the wood, and lurching when we hit those speed-bumps. Itai...  
  
I've gotten hay all over myself from sitting in the wagon. Garnfarnit! I didn't even know we had  
hay in Japan?!  
  
Anyways, I was told I would arrive at the manor around midnight. Ha! Well, it turns out we got   
stuck in traffic. Something about a meteor crashlanding in the middle of the street, or something.   
It's not important. We are currently on a really dark road, and it's hard to see for my writing. I   
really don't know why I'm writing, except for Rei told me it would be cool to read over everything   
I've done on the trip.   
  
Sometimes I worry about Rei. I have a cell-phone! I can call her anytime! I hate writing, it  
makes my fingers hurt... Yea, well, Rei, when you read this:  
  
Next time you take a trip ANYWHERE, you better write me a whole frickin' bloody novel, because   
this is a really low thing to do. And incase you can't hear me right now, I'm sniffling. Yea, that's   
right! I'm... Oh! We've just pulled up infront of this really run down old shack. What are we doing   
here?  
  
Aa! The driver just told me that this is Count Kamen's manor-house-estate-mansion-shack-thing.   
Whoa. This can't be right... I mean, this thing looks likes it was constructed out of tooth picks,  
tape, and old band-aid boxes.  
  
I guess he's on unemployment or something-- that must be why he wants that apartment on the   
cheap side of town.  
  
I'll talk later!  
  
-Usagi  
  
()_()  
(^.^)  
(")(")  
  
* * * * *  
  
At Count Kamen's Illustirous Estate-*cough*shack*cough*.  
  
The shack was great in it's size, poor in decor. The boards over the windows gave an air of  
hobo-ish-ness to the atmosphere. The paint was peeling from the outer walls, and the gardens  
were full of weeds and prickly bushes. The wooden sign reading "Castle Kamen" had been   
chopped in half, and the axe laid on the ground, still resting from it's cut.  
  
Quite a cozy place, indeed.  
  
"Er... Are you sure you have the right place?" Usagi tenatively stepped out of the cart, holding  
her nausea from the smell of the horses ahead of her. She glanced at the driver, he merely  
shrugged, setting down her bag and stuffing another piece of hay in his mouth. He climbed  
back onto the cart and began to ride away.  
  
"WHAT?! YOU'RE JUST LEAVING ME HERE?!" The blond stared on in shock as the cart wheeled  
and bounced away, "YOU IDIOT!! COME BACK HERE!!"  
  
The cart did not come back.   
  
'How rude.' The blond growled.  
  
Pissed, and a bit ruffled, Usagi turned back to the mansion-thing. She picked up her bags and   
toed herself to the door. Dropping the bags at her side casually, she knocked loudly. The door  
shook almost violently at her 'rap'ping, and she decided she would stick to pop and punk rock  
from now on [1].  
  
Suddenly the door opened.  
  
A cry rung out through her mind as she saw the man who stood at the door.  
  
'HE IS SO HOTT!! OH MY GOD!! OH MY GOD!! OH MY GOD!! OH MY GOD!!' Every hunk-censor in  
Usagi's system was on full-blown alert. Red lights were flashing behind her eyes, and sirens   
were ringing in her ears. She was definately going to enjoy her visit here.  
  
The man at the door, a tall pale man with shimmering ebony hair messily tousseled about his  
head, sweatdropped at the display before him. What was wrong with this guy? Who was he?  
Why was he here? What did he want? Why was he blushing so? Why couldn't he have servants   
to answer his door for him? 'Oh yea...Unemployment. Forgot that part.'  
  
"May I help you, sir?" He spoke eloquently, putting on his charm, and bowing to the blond man  
at the door before him.  
  
"Ano... I'm here as a substitute for my brother, a Mr. Usagi's Brother. He passed away just  
recently--" She-er-He began.  
  
He quickly cut in, "Oh! How dreadful, however did it happen?"  
  
"--A tragic accident with a rice ball just last week. It was really quite sad. We'll miss him dearly,  
but ANYWAYS! I am here to take up the job so that you don't sue our family for all we own. I am  
his sis-er-brother..." Usagi drifted off. She had forgotten to think of herself a name! How stupid  
had she been!? "...Andrew! I usually work at an arcade, but I know all about this stuff." She let  
out a nervous chuckle, hoping the hottie in the doorway would take the bait.  
  
"Oh! You're his replacement solicitor. Well, that's wonderful, please come in." He stood aside  
allowing -Andrew- to enter with -his-[2] bags.  
  
The boy entered the doorway cautiously, glancing around wide-eyed at his surroundings and  
looked to the man before him, "Gomen nasai... Anata ga Kounto Kamen, desu ka? Ano, Chiba  
Mamoru, desu ka?"  
  
The ebony-haired man blinked, "I don't speak that language..."  
  
Trying to avoid rolling his eyes, Andrew frowned, "Wie heissen Sie? Count Kamen? Herr Chiba?"  
  
"Erm... Not that one either." He replied, in a bashful way.  
  
"Hablas Espanola?"  
  
He shook his head, frowning.  
  
"Parlez vous Français?"   
  
Another 'no'.  
  
"English?"  
  
"Aa! I speak English..." He paused, "Haven't we been speaking in English fine up until now?"  
  
Actually, it was odd that everyone, up to this point, had thought themselves to be speaking in  
Japanese, which was just simply dubbed over into English by some divine entity, so that all   
observers observing this observation could observe without difficulty. Unfortunately, they had all   
been wrong. So very wrong.   
  
Andrew sweatdropped, "Are you Count Kamen?"  
  
"Yes, yes I am. I am Chiba Mamoru, otherwise known as Count Kamen."  
  
"Well, that's nice. I'm sleepy, do you have a room for me?" Andrew bore his gaze at the Count,  
his eyes drooping slightly, but forcing themselves to stay open and observe the drop-dead-  
gorgeous Count Kamen.  
  
"Yes, I do. Come with me Mr. Andrew. You may change and your dinner shall be ready for you  
shortly (nevermind the fact taht no one eats -dinner- at such an insanely early hour in the morning).   
The servants are preparing it in the kitchens." He nodded, motioning for him to follow as they   
headed towards the rotten staircase. "I wll come in with you later so that we may have a bit of   
discussion before you head into sleep." At this point he stepped on a rotten board which gave a   
loud creaky and broke. The Counst stumbled, grabbing the railing and trying to pull himself back   
up onto he next step. "Er... Don't step there."  
  
Usagi was left in her room to freshen up and change, and she set her bags down carefully on the  
springy mattress. There was a large red stain on the bed, kind of like dried blood, but she quickly   
just determined it was just a weird design on the sheets. She opened her bags to pull out something   
to wear and froze.  
  
She was a guy, but she had forgotten to pack her brother's clothes. Now she was stuck with denim  
skirts, tops of all colours, and a thin yellow dress. This is not how guys dress. She grunted, about  
to forsee her doom, when her stomach growled loudly. She hadn't eaten all day! She needed food.  
  
With that she headed into the next room, one connected to hers by a small oval room with two more  
doorways (one locked, and one filled with books-- ick! who would go in there?). He entered the  
sitting room, and the Count looked up from his seat by the fireplace. The reflection of the flames  
danced in his eyes, and for a moment, the man looked even devilishly more handsome than before   
(or perhaps he just looked like the devil).  
  
"Welcome, please forgive me that I have already eaten, but you may help yourself." He gestured to  
a table filled with various different foods, which the blond boy intended on devouring each and every  
single one of. "We may chat while you eat."  
  
He nodded and in one gulp, everything on the table was gone-- silverware included.  
  
The Count sweatdropped slightly, "Er... Ok, then. Please have a seat! We have lots to discuss."  
  
Hesitating slightly, Andrew seated himself in the chair opposite the Count, and they began to talk.  
  
"So..."  
  
"Yea..."  
  
"Hm..."  
  
"So..."  
  
"Nice place you got here."   
  
"You think? I built it myself, back in the roaring 20's."  
  
"When?!"  
  
"Er... Twenty months ago... You know. The place was roaring with bulldozers and whatnot."  
  
"Really? What did you have to bulldoze?"  
  
"Aa, nothing. Just some old Indian burial ground."  
  
Usagi gulped.   
  
* * * * *  
  
To Be Continued...  
  
* * * * *  
  
Notes--  
  
1] Sorry... ^_^ I couldn't help me self. Music joke, for you who didn't get it.  
  
2] From now on Usagi will be referred to as Andrew/he unless she his alone, or I specify other-  
-wise. This is to cut down on confusion. She's being Andrew because Usagi as a male and Andrew,  
when I picture them in my mind, seem to look quite a bit similar. Andrew will still be Andrew, but  
when I use him, I will call him the *real* Andrew (Unless someone is willing to lend his last name,  
if no one knows it I'll make one up) and Andrew/Usagi will be Tsukino Andrew, ne? Gut!  
  
* * * * *  
  
Next Chapter--   
  
The Count and *Andrew* have a long discussion over... everything. Usagi decides she needs to   
phone home for someone to pick up her brother's clothes, only to find that she forgot to bring the   
charger to her phone, and her battery has gone dead. What will she do without communication   
with the outside world for a whole week!? Count Kamen hasn't paid his electrical bill so there's no   
entertainment-- How will she survive these hard times? And then there's the matter of the Count's  
house. It was built on an ancient Indian burial ground? But, there were no Indians in Japan!  
  
* * * * *  
  
[ Originally Drafted and Posted = 22 August 2002 ]  
  
[ Edited and Reposted = 5 April 2003 ] 


	3. Chapter 2 :: A Room With No Phone

- Author's Note - Haven't updated this in quite some time, it would appear. The prologue and first  
chapter have just been edited and reposted, perhaps they are a bit lengthened in stupidity, jetzt?  
This part may sound a bit different in comparisson to the previous two installments, as I haven't  
really written anything on this in months, and my style has changed quite considerably (yet, I'm not   
sure whether it has been for better or worse). Pardon mon Françias.  
  
- Key -  
  
"..." -dialogue  
  
'...' - thought  
  
*...* - emphasis  
  
(...) - quick explanations, drifting along with the story  
  
[#] - author's note  
  
* (5x's) - change of scenery  
  
// ... // - diary entries, letters, articles, etc.  
  
- Warnings - Mild language, OOC (no shit, Sherlock), Excessive usage of French, Comma splicing.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Kamen * By Seph Lorraine  
  
Chapter 2: A Room With No Phone  
  
* * * * *  
  
// May 2nd; 18:39 PM --- Tsukino Usagi's Diary //  
  
Okkei, Rei, since I'm writing this to you, I might as well simply address this to you. Arg. I hate writing.  
It makes me feel like I'm in school. I hate school. I hate this. I hate this diary. I hate this house. I hate--  
  
Whoa... Okkei, just a bit too much negativity on my part.  
  
The Count and I, whom I might add-- put the 'hot' in 'hot' (er... I guess that works), talked for a long  
time last night. Try -all night-. By the time we were done talking, I felt like I could saw logs for a week.  
And you thought that -I- talked to much. I have nothing on this guy.  
  
Did you know that his house was built on an Indian burial ground? What the hell is up with that? I was so  
tired, though, this morning when I went to sleep, that I forgot to be afraid of ghosts and stuff.   
  
I didn't even know there were Indians in Japan. I may have slept through the majority of my history  
lessons throughout the school year, but I am pretty much sure that there were never any Indians in   
Japan.  
  
He also gave me his entire life story.  
  
Apparently, he's related to all these rich dead people who were related to the last emperor or Japan. It  
was a very long speech, though, that's pretty much all I got out of it (can you say "boring"?). Oh! But I  
did get some stuff worth knowing!  
  
His name is Chiba Mamoru, and he likes green. He suffered some majour head trauma as a child (it's  
fairly obvious, as well) and can't remember a thing until he was about eight or something. Then he knew  
some weird little grimlin guy with funky coloured hair, and I don't know about that part. The way he  
described that other guy (Flower, Fredrick, Friar, Fiore, Whatever...) made me think he was pretty gay.  
Maybe that was due to the fact that he said, "His skin was more smooth than the finest silk".  
  
Eh heh...  
  
Oh, damn. I hope he's not gay. The best guys are all either Mako chan's ex-boyfriends or unbelievably   
gay! WAAH!   
  
Yea, well, apparently he likes long-haired blonds that are named after animals (even though he didn't  
specify male or female). I have long blond hair! I'm named after an animal! I am -so- his type.  
  
Anyway, I dreamt about him in French, after I went to sleep. It was so odd. I don't even speak French.  
It was like this...  
  
We were standing on a balcony, the night sky spotted with small twinkling stars, as he approached me.  
  
"Bonjour, madame." He spoke, so eloquently. (trans: "Hello, miss.")  
  
"Bonjour, monsieur." I replied. (trans: "Hello, sir.")  
  
"Comment allez vous, madame?" He asked. (trans: "How do you do, miss?")  
  
"Quelle est la date de la bataille de Waterloo?" (trans: "What is the date of the battle of Waterloo?") I'm  
not quite sure why I asked.  
  
"Il est mort en dix sept cent quinze." (trans: "He died in 1715.") He responded, solemnly.  
  
"Qui?" I asked. (trans: "Who?")  
  
"Les charcutiers vendent du pore. Les bouchers vendent les autres espèces de viande." (trans: "Pork  
butchers sell pork. Butchers sell the other kinds of meat.")  
  
"Oh." (trans: "Oh.")  
  
Then he gave me a popsicle.  
  
And that was pretty much it. A pretty strange dream, if you ask me. I wonder if it means something?  
  
Bai bai!  
  
-Usagi  
  
()_()  
(^.^)  
(")(")  
  
* * * * *  
  
Usagi was nothing short of panicking as she knelt over her open luggage. She had absolutely nothing to  
wear! Everything was feminine, and probably too small for her now more masculine frame. Her shoulders  
had broadened, and her chest had most certainly flattened. The curves of her hips had also dulled, leaving  
her with a still thin waist, and she had extra parts between her legs, which she was slightly uncomfortable   
with. All together, she appeared as a more feminine man. If she were to be seen in public, some might  
even tease her as a "pretty boy". Or rather simply put, they would call her gay.  
  
The point, however, was far off in Russia by now. So God nudged it back over into Japan with a nine-iron [1]  
and the world went on.  
  
The fact that Usagi's entire wardrobe consisted of things she wore as a -girl- formed a slight problem, as  
now she was a -boy-. It appeared she wouldn't be able to wear her favourite strappy pink sandals, either.  
Needless to say, the blond was now quite profusely pouting.  
  
"This sucks." She muttered.  
  
Suddenly an idea struck her. She could use her mobile phone to call one of her friends to bring her some  
of her brother's clothes! She could have them delivered before the day was over.  
  
She snapped out her phone, punching random numbers, only to receive a very loud unwelcoming beep.  
  
'Dammit!' She had forgot to bring her charger so she could keep using her phone. She also had no way to  
contact anyone back home. She was stuck without communication!  
  
Slightly wrinkling her nose as she put on the same suit she wore the day before, Usagi slipped out of her   
room, through the oval room, and into the small parlor. She glanced around, but for as far as she could   
see, there was no telephone, and then she noticed something else.  
  
Aside from the fact that the room lacked a proper calling device, was the fact that there was absolutely   
nothing electrical at -all-. All of the lights were candles, gas lamps, and lanterns, and there was absolutely   
nothing electronic! No TV, no stereo, no phone, no lamps, nothing! A sudden dread came over the blond   
as she stood in silent shock.  
  
Oh yes, she was definately going to have to get this deal over with so she could go back home. Whether   
the Count was hot or not, she needed modern devices of convenience. She needed a telephone, a TV, a   
computer, a stereo, and there was absolutely nothing of the sort in these rooms she had been given. She   
glanced at the door, suddenly. Maybe there was a phone somewhere else in the house?  
  
She winced at the thought of going back down those steps. This shack seemed less stable than a soggy   
two-story cardboard box.   
  
She approached the door, reaching for the knob and squealing as the door opened before she could even  
touch it. The Count stood there, in the doorway, and blinked.  
  
"Uh... Hi." He blinked again. "Was' up?"  
  
Andrew sweatdropped, "Er... Hello. I was just going to see if you had a phone I might use, you see--"  
  
"Oh, I'm afraid not. We don't have any electricity here." He grimaced slightly, "You see, the power bills  
were getting awfully expensive, and... Sorry, we don't have any of that."  
  
"Then how did you call us to begin with?" The blond stepped back, allowing the count to enter the room.  
  
"Pay phone." He spoke very quickly and smiled, "Er, maybe you should ready yourself for dinner, I will  
have it sent up immediately."  
  
Andrew nearly groaned, for once in his life he didn't feel like eating. He really needed a phone. Never-the-  
less, though, he steadied himself to his bedroom to silently sulk. Why did she ever decide to do this in the  
first place? When he re-entered the room, though, he saw that his dinner was fixed and waiting for him to   
eat.  
  
'PIZZA! WOO HOO! Finally, something's going right...' He nearly began to drool, seeing the dinner he  
had been so graciously delivered.  
  
Sitting himself at the table, he glanced at the Count to see if the other man would join him.  
  
"Aa, I ate earlier... by myself." His eyes twitched lightly as he spoke.  
  
"Why do you eat by yourself?"  
  
The Count blinked, "Bad table manners..." Then whispered under his breath, so that the room's other  
occupant couldn't hear, "Not that your's are any better."  
  
'He's probably just antisocial.' Andrew thought, before gorging himself on the fine Italien cuisine before  
him.  
  
When his meal was finished, the blond sat himself in the chair across from the handsome Count, and  
pulled some papers from his jacket pocket, and began, "So, Chiba san--"  
  
"What did you just call me?"  
  
Two blue eyes blinked under a matt of rather messy blond hair, "Chiba san?"  
  
The Count pondered over this for a moment, "What does that mean?"  
  
Andrew took a moment, at this. What the hell was wrong with this guy? How can you live in Japan for  
all of your life, be related to the last emperor, and still not know the language -or- even what the suffix  
'san' meant? How do you explain what the suffix 'san' means?   
  
The blond solicitor frowned, deciding that this was indeed not the time for him to teach a lesson on  
Japanese, "Mr. Chiba, is that better?"  
  
The dark-haired man leaned back in his chair, thinking. He rolled the title upon his tongue and shook his  
head, finally. "No... It's just not..." He moved his arms in an unsure gesture, "-me-." The last word stated  
in air-quotes.  
  
Andrew frowned, "Then exactly what are--" he paused to put the last word in air-quotes, as well, "-you-?"  
  
The Count rubbed at his chin, suddenly wish he had something stylish like a goatee to tug on when he  
was in -deep thought-. "Well, I've kind of always liked the name 'Batman'." [2]  
  
There was an awkward silence following this statement.  
  
"Er..." The blond blinked, "Wasn't Batman a cartoon?"  
  
"Something slightly mysterious, yet dashing..." The Count continued, still in his deep chain of thought,  
"like maybe 'Sir Batman', or maybe... 'Count Batman', or even... 'Lord Batman'! Yes, that's it! I shall be  
'Lord Batman'!"  
  
There was a rather heavy sweatdrop pressing upon Andrew's skull at the moment, "Okkei... -Lord  
Batman-..."  
  
'Lord Batman' smiled contentedly.  
  
The blue-eyed boy coughed and began again, "About this apartment you wish to purchase--"  
  
"Yes, tell me about the neighbourhood, won't you?"  
  
"Er..." Andrew thought for a moment, "Well, I've never really been there, myself. Though, my friend Rei  
says she gets a lot of 'bad vibes' from around there--"  
  
"Yes, and tell me about your friend Rei?"  
  
"Well, she's about my height, long black hair, works at a temple--"  
  
"Yes, and tell me about this temple?"  
  
"Well, It's a Shinto temple, where she's working to become a preistess. She's really amazing with fire--"  
  
"Yes, and tell me about this fire?"  
  
Andrew sighed, long and deep. He raised a hand to rub at his temples. It was going to be a very long   
night.  
  
* * * * *   
  
To Be Continued...  
  
* * * * *  
  
Notes--  
  
[1] Does anyone else ever have mental images of God playing golf?  
  
[2] This is where you're supposed to be picturing vampire-Mamoru sitting in a large black chair, dressed  
in (assumably) black, with a sort of wicked glint in his eyes, and looking as if in thought. Oh yes. He could  
-so- be Batman. :)  
  
* * * * *  
  
Next Chapter--   
  
Makoto, Ami, Mina, and Rei exchange letters over the happenings elsewhere in Japan.  
  
* * * * *  
  
[ Originally Drafted and Posted = 5 April 2003 ] 


End file.
